


That's Sir to You

by ThinCeiling



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Dad Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:01:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9336323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThinCeiling/pseuds/ThinCeiling
Summary: Soldier 76 snarks at Hana to call him "sir." She snarks back.





	

As her teammates introduced themselves in a loose circle, some leaning against the wall, others sitting at the bar, all of them sagging against the oppressive heat of the New Mexican desert, Hana Song smacked her gum with quiet enthusiasm. Her mech hummed behind her, the idle screen displaying a countdown until the start of the mission.

She warily surveyed her teammates. Well. They were less of a team, more of a hodgepodge. Ex-cons, current cons, hitmen, soldiers-for-hire, and military reps like herself.

An older man who called himself Soldier 76 was currently speaking. A mask obscured his eyes and mouth, but revealed a scar that jagged across his pale forehead. Definitely an intentional choice. Typical merc.

“...multiple raids across the globe, including Russia, Japan, and Antarctica,” Soldier 76 was saying. He had a deep voice, all gruff and no curve, that betrayed some kind of dark past. Also definitely intentional. “Don’t get in my way, and we’ll get along just fine.”

Hana snorted. Soldier 76 swiveled his head toward her. “Is something funny, young lady?” he said.

She blew a bubble. “Nope.”

“Good.” He turned around, throwing a comment over his shoulder: “And that’s ‘No, sir’ to you.”

There was an audible intake of breath around the room; another merc, a smelly Aussie who called himself Junkrat, made a low ‘Ooooooing’ noise. Hana’s bubble popped. “What did you say?”

“I said.” Soldier 76 turned around. “That’s ‘no, sir’ to you.”

As Junkrat slapped his knee and a pink-haired Russian cocked an eyebrow, Hana gave Soldier 76 a once-over. Cold anger rose inside of her. She smiled. “What’s your rank, seventy-six?”

“Excuse me?”

“Your military rank. What is it?”

“That isn’t relevant to the mission.”

Hana took a step forward. Soldier 76 straightened, perhaps out of instinct. “When I was eighteen, I killed my first omnic. My first fourteen, actually.”

The diner went quiet. Junkrat looked between them eagerly, fingers quivering.

“I used to put tallies on my mech, you know.” She took another step forward. “After the fourth one detonated, I stopped. I’d run out of space before I could ditch.”

Some guy dressed as a cowboy let out a low whistle.

“When I turned nineteen, my government promoted me to the rank of MEKA Fleet Leader.” Another step. “That’s the army equivalent of sangwi. Let me guess… you’re American?”

They were chest-to-chest now, almost; he was a full head shorter than him, but it didn’t feel that way. The bastard was lucky he had a mask. She would’ve killed to see his expression.

“You don’t know anything about me,” said Soldier 76. “You--”

“Sangwi,”--Hana cut in, smacking her gum--“is the equivalent of First Lieutenant in the U.S. army. Are you above that?”

Soldier 76 stared. He quickly rallied, squeezing the grip of his rifle. “I’m a mercenary. Our type don’t have ranks, kid.”

“So you’re below me by default.” Hana blew a bubble, the largest one so far. It popped against his chest, leaving a sticky, pink residue against his glossy jacket. “And that’s sir to you, Soldier Seventy-Prick.”

Junkrat let out a whoop.

**Author's Note:**

> I fuckening love D.Va and those headcanons about her strained relationship with S76–y’know, the anti-dad 76 ones, because Hana Song is essentially a child soldier and has been through some shit and will not be condescended to by some ex-Overwatch operative. A one-shot loosely inspired by @peachdeluxe‘s fanart on tumblr.


End file.
